First Annual Convict Hunger Games
by Slappinthebassmon
Summary: Twenty years after the ending of The Hunger Games, President Alva has found a loop hole to start the games again. For the first time ever, eighteen prisoners will participate in the Prison Hunger Games. Winning means freedom, and losing means certain death. (SYOT open)
1. President Alva

It had taken President Alva nearly twenty years to find a loop hole. Twenty years to find a way to start the Hunger Games again. Upon finding one, Alva took a _spontaneous _visit to each district for an _evaluation_ of their prisons.

It didn't take long to come up with an idea; for every odd numbered District one convict will be reaped, while every even numbered District will reap two prisoners. No matter the crime or sentence, as long as they are currently surving time in prison and are older than 18, they are legible. The victor will be granted freedom, the losers obviously facing certain death.

In honesty, it had been his wife's idea; his kitten was a smart one. Though, she feared the thought of a convict being set free for winning, no matter what the crime. It was a reasonable fear, but it wasn't one they should have to be bothered by. Not even the victor would be able to get all the way to the Capital without being shot down.

When he had gone to visit the District prisons, she had been anxious and fearful. Blubbering into his shoulder when he arrived home after two long weeks. He decided it was best not to tell her about the incident in District 3.

During his tour, every convict had ben locked within their cells, but somehow ne had gotten out and went straight for him. The old man was able to get his hands around his neck before being restrained and shot by the guarding peacekeepers. It didn't scare him, simply made him aware of what could happen, but it would certainly scare his wife.

When he finally announced the new and improved Hunger Games, the majority of the Capital people were excited. He knew his people would be. Instead of making _innocent_ teens fight for their lives, he was making adult criminals fight. He was ridding the overpopulated prisons of guilty felons, and surely the District citizens could not hate him for this.

The president knew very well that District 8 would be full of rage as it had once been so long ago, but it was no matter. He would do this to show those with so much as a thought about committing a crime that he is stronger and more powerful than them. He was giving the Capital its faovrite entertainment back, and his kitten the feeling of safety from the twelve Districts. There was virtually no downside.

Reaping wouldn't be like it was in the past. Instead of standing in a crowd, the prisoners would be locked away in their cells, all listening as the Head Peacekeeper drew a slip with the tribute or tribute's name. When they are announced as a tribute, they will be put in shackles and taken to the train to be transported to the Capital.

On arrival, they will be escorted to their custom rooms. There will be no chariot ride, instead their will be a ceremony for the Capital and District people. Alva wanted to keep them as far away from his people as possible.

Training will be allowed, but they will be forced to wear anklets that go off if they're too close to each other. Peacekeepers will be on high alert. There will be little merit on being the best looking, it will be about who is the strongest mentally and physically. Sponsors will not be allowed; it is up to the tributes to provide for themselves.

During interviews, they will wear their prison uniforms and stay shackled. The questions asked would be simple. What had put them in prison? Do they feel guilty? Are they confident about winning the Games? It would be President Alva's way of finding out about each tribute, and whether or not he should have a peacekeeper keep an eye on them if they win.

If a victor commits a crime after winning the Games, they will be immediately reaped for the next Hunger Games. It serves as a warning to the ex-con. The president hopes this will keep the victors from committing new crimes, but even he knows shit happens.

Even though this isn't like the normal Hunger Games, it's exactly how President Alva wants it. He only hopes the Capital citizens will still enjoy it. It isn't glamorous, quite the opposite; these tributes aren't getting dolled up to kill each other. They're just being chosen to kill their fellow convicts, to help decontaminate the Districts really.

And when this was over, President Alva would be praised as a hero.

* * *

**Author note: The tribute form and list is on my profile, the list of District prisons and what they are mostly about will be above the form. I will only accept tributes that have been PM to me, if you review your tribute I will not look at the form and I will not accept them.**

**I'd also like to thank my awesome friend, luvakatsuki3 for being my beta for this SYOT!**


	2. District 1 Reaping

I smirk, pulling my orange jumpsuit back on, but I leave it open to tease Louis, the Peacekeeper, who quickly walked out of the cell. I snicker at his nervousness. Louis didn't have as big of a package as I had hoped, but overall, he wasn't a bad fuck.

Idly, I began to comb my fingers through the knots in my hair; Louis had this thing about tangling his fingers in it. I didn't mind as long as he kept going. He had called my perfect. I could agree with that. I have a nice, thin body, with curves everywhere it counts. It's no wonder I can get my way with anyone, male or female.

The scrape of a tray being slid across the floor catches my attention. Louis came through on his promise. I gather the warm, chocolate brownie carefully into my hand. I don't want to get any of the chocolate desert beneath my long nails. Picking off pieces, I let them melt on my tongue, moaning loudly. I'm probably drawing attention to myself. I suppress a giggle at the thought of drooling peacekeepers lined up outside of my cell.

I'm known as the biggest slut in District 1. Maybe you can tell why. I started having sex when I was young. Attention, that's what I wanted. Attention my parents never gave me. They think I'm troubled, and maybe I am, but do I care? No, I love sex. I don't talk to my parents anymore. Speaking of which, I don't talk to anyone I've ever had sex with either... not unless they have something to give me.

Peacekeepers come and go. It's mostly the same men every time. They never chant my name, but usually someone else's. Perhaps their wives. Maybe their girlfriends. It's amusing really.

Almost as amusing as being thrown in prison for having sex with another woman in public. Just the memories send adrenaline coursing through my veins. It wasn't my first time in public, the last time being with a younger man, but there'd been no male peacekeeper come to _arrest_ me. Rather a stern, beautiful and entirely straight young woman.

A sudden, loud alarm makes me stand.

Walking over to the cell door, I looked around and see everyone else is doing the same. I glance at the second catwalk and see the Head Peacekeeper holding a bucket. I instantly knew what it was for. Reaping.

I think the entire idea of the Hunger Games coming back is stupid. I'm sure it could be interesting, just as long as it's entertaining. I groan with annoyance, he was taking too long. I want nothing but to curl up and take a nap. Sex is a very exhausting thing.

The tall, menacing man reaches a slender hand into the bucket and slowly pulls out a slip.

"District 1's first ever convict tribute is..." The Head Peacekeeper pauses long enough to unfold the slip of paper, his microphone screeches loudly before he speaks into it once more.

"Violender Ruby!"

I cringe for a moment at the sound of my name, but when I see a new Peacekeeper approaching my cell, I smile and wink. He opens the door and steps toward me, and I lean towards him.

"You like it hardcore or soft?" I ask seductively, my breath ghosting across his face. The Peacekeeper swallows hard as he proceeds to put the shackles around my ankles and wrists.

The inside of the prison is pure white, too white, and it's almost blinding as I'm escorted down the hall.

I couldn't wait to leave... but I wasn't willing to die for this freedom.

* * *

When I stepped foot on the train, I was surprised to find no one, not even an Avox. I simply shrugged and approached a table covered in food; meat, bread, fruit and vegetables. A devious grin works it's way onto my face as I grasp a banana and slowly eat it, plopping down on the nearby couch.

I couldn't help but wonder what the other tributes look like. I hoped there would be willing men or women. I don't want to spend my time in the Capitol bored. Hmm.. I'd love to live in the Capitol. All of their people are good looking.

I stretch in my seat before standing, carelessly tossing the banana peal onto the table. I head in the direction I think my room would be, but my shackles don't allow me any further. I guess I'll just settle for the couch then, it's more comfortable than the cot I used back in the prison. I let the soft cushions comfort me as I close my eyes.

Hopefully by the time I wake, I'll be in the Capitol.

* * *

**Author Note: There is a few more spots open, see my profile for more info. Once again, I'd like to thank luvakatsuki3 for being my beta. **


	3. District 2 Reaping

**Aerona Bloodwed POV**

It should've been me. I should've been reaped that day. It was my last chance at being reaped for the Hunger Games. I could have won, but that stupid bitch had to get in my way.

When it came time for a female tribute to volunteer or be reaped, I was standing on stage ready to proudly proclaim that I was going to be the volunteer. But that all changed when I noticed Janus Williams standing next to me. She argued that she had volunteered before me. The escort, Xenia, had agreed with Janus. I was so angry that I snapped Janus' neck in front of everyone. On live TV.

Janus ruined my first chance at becoming a victor, but there is no way she can ruin this glorious second chance that President Alva presented me with.

President Alva's visit meant nothing to me. At the time, I didn't know about the revamped Hunger Games. Just the thought of the Hunger Games makes me think of my older sister, Chara.

Chara is a victor of a past Hunger Game. She had been so encouraging when I had a chance at playing in my own. But that all changed when I was into prison. Chara is the only one who writes me. She writes me once a month. Each time she likes to remind me of what filth I am, and how I ruined the family name.

When they hear the name Bloodwed, they think of me, not of Chara. There is little to no honor to our name because of my infamous moment at my last Reaping.

I've disowned my parents. I disowned them after they never contacted me after five years! I had found out last month from Chara that they too disowned me. The irony burns deep inside my soul.

When I win the revamped Hunger Games, I will not claim my family.

I am an orphan.

* * *

The buzzer catches my attention. I stand up from my hard cot and walk to the cell door. I can hardly see the male peacekeeper standing on the second catwalk with two buckets. He looks at me with a knowing glance before picking up the megaphone.

"Your District 2 male tribute is," he cuts off long enough to pull a name from the bucket.

"Garland Lutz!" He announces. I recognize that name. Garland was a shameless flirt who was constantly in and out of prison. He'd been in for only a week this latest run.

"Next the females," the peacekeeper says, giving me that look again. That's when I shove my arm through the bars and yell: "I volunteer!"

My voice rand through the quiet prison. I feel glee bubble up inside as a female peacekeeper makes her way towards me.

* * *

**Garland Lutz POV**

My breathy counting echoes in my nearly empty cell. I'm only at thirty pushups out of my normal morning forty.

Only two weeks remain of my bullshit charge. I've been sentenced to three weeks of prison time just because I put some moves on the wrong peacekeeper. I don't think I've ever seen a woman turn so violent over a simple comment. She should've been the one arrested.

I like to flirt. I'm mostly looking for reactions and sex. But each time I get arrested, I step back from sex. Who knows what diseases these people could be carrying. As soon as I'm out again, I'll jump right back into it.

I never ask for my mom, Bellisima to bail me out, because I want to try something new. My life is boring. What can I say?

My mom likes to spoil me. My dad, Palladium, doesn't do much, but goes to work as much as he can just to get away from mom's nagging.

When President Alva came to visit, I tried to chat him up, but the man just straight up ignored me! I won't lie, it pissed me off, but in the end, I don't really care. There's plenty more where he comes from.

When I heard he was starting a new breed of the Hunger Games, I was all for it. The Hunger Games will bring spice back to the Districts. And besides, what do I care if a bunch of murderers kill each other? That's how they ended up in prison in the first place.

The sudden blare of the alarm draws my eyes to the door. I get up from my position on the floor and walk up to the cell door. I press my slim, muscular body against the cool bars, staring up at the catwalk with curiosity.

Surely I wouldn't get picked. I mean, I'm only here for two more weeks! It was almost as if the peacekeeper with the bucket heard me, because just as he opens the slip of paper, he looks at me.

"Garland Lutz!" He announces. My stomach drops instantly. As the male peacekeeper approaches me, I wink at him to distract myself. The distraction won't last.

* * *

I stand across the table from my District partner, Aerona. Within thirty minutes I've learned that she is very demanding, and very flirtatious. Every time she looks at me, I wink and like to think that it causes her a little inner turmoil

She looks just like a District 1 transfer. She is five foot eight, with blonde hair that cascades down her back. Just like me, she has brown eyes. It's the only thing we have in common other than our flirtatious attitudes.

"You want tickets?" I ask, making her look at my with eyes full of confusion.

"To what?" She asks, while moving a turkey leg to her plate.

"The Gun Show!" I shout, throwing my arms up and flexing wildly.

She doesn't look amused by this. I drop my arms in defeat. There was no way I was just going to let her get away without giving me at least one proper reaction.

* * *

**Aerona Bloodwed POV**

I could see Garland's annoyance growing. He kept flirting with me. If this makes him fall into my trap, then I will play along. But once we get into the arena, I'll kill him when he least expects it.

At this moment, I just want to focus on the Games. When I win, I will finally make Chara eat her vile words!

I couldn't wait to see her face. She will be ashamed of spitting her insults at me. I will bring back some honor to my name, and show that I was meant to be the victor all along!

* * *

**Author note: There is a few more tribute spots open, the next update will explain some of your questions! :)**


	4. Carnation Alva

**President Alva**

I felt unbelievably busy as I went through the 3D maps of the arena. I had been surprised when Head Gamemaker Zunis announced within only a week of my announcement that he had everything mapped out for me to approve.

The sound of the office door opening causes me to shrink and close the map. I spin around on my office chair, annoyance growing heavy on my facial features.

They soften when I meet the eyes of my kitten. She has a look of frustration and exhaustion playing across her smooth skin.

Her copper colored hair looked like curled yarn that bounced on her bared shoulders, her sparkling green eyes matched her silky, green nightgown.

My kitten doesn't look like most Capital women. That's what I loved most about her.

"When are you coming to bed?" She asks with a tired tone. I glance at the mini map that was waiting to be opened once more. This causes her to sigh heavily.

"Kitten," I start, but she quickly cuts me off.

"Don't you dare call me that! You know very well that I'm upset with you." Carnation snaps, surprising me.

I clear my throat, narrowing my eyes.

"I have work to do!"

Carnation crosses her arms over her chest with a deadly glare.

"What? Making those tributes more isolated before their deaths?" She becomes almost frantic, and I stand up. "You know very well that I wasn't serious about restarting these damned games!"

"What am I supposed to do? Mentors are past victors, they always have been. And giving them an Avox or two could result badly. Do you want to serve one of those convects?!" I yell. I know I've won this part of the argument, but the look on my wife's face says it all.

I'm sleeping on the couch tonight.

"Fuck you. I just want you to come back to me! You've been at this for years! You aren't like you used to be." Tears slip down Carnation's cheek before she quickly leaves my office.

I violently kick the desk, and instantly I regret it. I let out a pained whimper and fall into my chair.

Why couldn't Carnation see what I'm doing for her?

* * *

**Author Note: I hope y'all like this chapter, this is a look inside of President Alva and Carnation's relationship. **

**Also, there are a few more tribute spots open. Check my profile for more info. **


	5. District 3 Reaping

**Author Note: Here's District 3's reaping! Hope y'all like it.**

* * *

I stare up at the ceiling. Everyone is freaking out over the chance of being Reaped.

I don't see the point in it.

It's just a publicity stunt that the President thinks will make him historic or famous.

He's already famous, he is the President after all.

I'm locked up because of his men.

The peacekeepers had come to District 3 to get some custom guns built.

Who better than me to make these guns for them? I am one of the best in District 3.

I had tampered with their guns so they would misfire horribly and kill the peacekeepers.

I had forgotten about it by time I went home to my boyfriend, Dune.

We had been eating dinner when they kicked our door down.

Turns out the misfire had only killed one peacekeeper out of the four.

Dune didn't believe them at first, and I wasn't going to tell him different.

But after they explained to him exactly what I did, he broke up with me.

Selfish man.

I didn't love him anyway, I just lived with him so I didn't have to pay rent.

I may have had a lot of money but I didn't like spending it if I didn't have to. Of course, now I don't have any.  
I yawn loudly.

I could hear an annoyed grumble next door, and it causes me to snicker; the walls are paper thin around here.

The woman in the cell next to me hates me. She had been my babysitter growing up. Funny that we both ended up in here, side by side.

I believe that she somehow thinks I want to be here. I don't; I want to be free.

Who would want to spend the rest of their lives behind bars?

"Alright, listen up everyone!" It was the head peacekeeper.

I sit up to face the cell door.

I could just barely see the head peacekeeper.

He had a single bucket with him and a megaphone.

It must be time for reaping.

I lay back down, not caring to pay attention.

What does it matter to me if someone is reaped?

"Our first ever convict tribute is," he pauses.

"Clementine Hawk!" My eyes snap open full of anger.

I begin to throw things round my cell as I scream profanities at the top of my lungs.

Two peacekeepers come into my cell and restrain me.

It didn't take much effort for them to put the shackles on my hands and feet. I can't fight worth a shit.

* * *

Within just thirty minutes of being alone inside of the train, I have broken everything I could reach.

I know they'll be angry with me, but they are getting exactly what they deserve!

This had to have been rigged!

How ironic would it be that the forty year old woman who tampered with the peacekeeper's guns would get reaped in the first ever convict hunger games?

Little did they know that I am onto President Alva's plan. I am not as stupid as he thinks I am!


End file.
